Friends, Family and Wrestling
by Calliope Hellice
Summary: Um, fluffiness--romance featuring Shaelin, Jeff, Matt, Lita, Boy Wonder, et al. Enjoy!
1. New Friends

Part One: New Friends  
  
------------------------------  
  
Shaelin sighed, dippiing her finger into the thick foam that formed at the top of her pint of Guinness. She watched as her younger sister flirted with the bartender, receiving free drinks for her trouble. She was laughing, tossing her orange-red hair over her shoulder, her bright green eyes glittering as she laughed. Flawless pale skin, perfect body, all revealed by her tight green tank dress and sling back heels to match.  
  
Shaelin glanced down at herself. Knee length black skirt, boring black tank top, boots that came halfway to her knees showing off her sturdy calves, and she knew she looked bookish with her burgundy framed glasses and her hair pulled into a poneytail. No wonder she sat at a table alone, while the rest of the bar was packed, and her sister was surrounded with gorgeous men.  
  
Perhaps the withering glares she gave any man who approached her had something to do with it, as well.  
  
Shaelin sighed, licking the foam from her finger, savouring the strong yeasty taste.  
  
"Can I sit here?" he was holding a Corona and a shot of tequila. No lemon, no salt. Straight up.  
  
Shaelin gaee him her patented glare, even though he was really cute. And really tall.  
  
He gestured around the bar, indicated full stools and full tables. "There's no where else to sit, and I really don't think I can stand for much longer."  
  
She sighed, rolling her eyes and pointed to the seat across from her. "Go ahead."  
  
He laughed at her tone. Bored and impatient. He offered a hand, revealing the sleeves he wore up his arms, with a spot for his thumb to go through. "I'm Jeff."  
  
It was then that she noticed the soft southern accent, as well as the black chipped polish on his nails. She laughed, taking his hand.  
  
"My name's Shaelin." she offered. "Shae, if you want."  
  
Jeff grinned, rubbing his hand self consciously. "Never seen a man wear nail polish?"  
  
She shook her head, grinning. "I have-just never saw one so-um-big, wearing it."  
  
He cocked his head to one side, the little bit of light sliding under the purple baseball cap.  
  
He was definitely cute, Shaelin decided, but not really my type. She could see strands of blue sticking out from under the cap, a chunky silver necklace with a deformed looking "H" hung around his throat, and his clothing bordered between skater, punk and goth. Baggy dark blue carpenter jeans, a fitted black fishnet tank top, and black sleeves.  
  
"What?" he asked in his southern drawl.  
  
"Where are you from?" she asked abruptly, blushing from being caught staring. She hoped he couldn't see the blush in the dim light of the bar.  
  
"North Carolina," he smiled softly. "Why?"  
  
"Just your accent made me wonder," She shrugged self consciously. "It was too soft to be deep south, but southern none the less."  
  
Jeff chuckled, a soft, deep sound. Then a silence followed. But it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable one. He watched the people in the bar, as Shaelin poked her finger into her glass. She looked up when she felt him watching her, her finger halfway to her mouth.  
  
"What?" she asked, her dark blue eyes peering over the rims of her glasses.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, wrinkling his nose and nodding to her glass.  
  
"I'm enjoying my pint," she replied haughtily. She sighed in exasperation at his confused look. "Guinness." She shrugged. "I like the foam the best."  
  
He laughed, then winced in pain. His fight with his brother had left him feeling pain he hadn't felt in a long time. His ribs ached, his knee hurt especially bad, since that was wear Matt decided to take him out. He shook his head. 'Just drink, just ignore the pain.' But he wasn't sure if it was the physical or mental pain that he wanted to numb the most.  
  
Lita's hand coming down for the three count, the crowd screaming in appreciation as he was announced the winner over his brother. The better of the two Hardys. He felt the tears start again, and blinked them back. But the brunette across the table had sharp eyes.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
Shaelin had seen him clutch his ribs, his eyes tearing in pain.  
  
"Just a match with my brother," he laughed lightly, but ended up weezing instead. "It left me a little hurt."  
  
"A match?" her eyes searched his face. Slightly turned up nose, hazel eyes, a bit of fuzz on his face resembled a beard. Really high cheekbones. If he cleaned up, he could likely model, or act.  
  
"I'm a wrestler," he looked at Shaelin, expecting some kind of recognition. "The WWF?"  
  
She laughed. "The only WWF I know of, is the World Wildlife Foundation."  
  
"The World Wrestling Federation," he explained, his turn to sigh in exasperation. "I'm half of the Hardy Boyz-or at least I was."  
  
"Was?" She watched as he finally downed the tequila, wincing at the taste, signalling the waitress for more. He chased the shot with his Corona.  
  
Jeff shook his head. "Sibling rivalry at it's best," he said wryly, picking up the fresh shot from the waitress and downing it, taking another swig of Corona.  
  
Shaelin wrinkled her nose at his drinking. She was never one for hard liquor herself. "I know what you mean." She glanced subconsciously at her sister at the bar.  
  
"Friend of yours?" he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The pain was starting to recede with the help of the alcohol.  
  
"My sister-Noelle," Shealin laughed. "She gets the looks, the men, the career-" her voice trailed off. "What happened with your brother?"  
  
'Nice subject change,' Jeff thought. He wanted to hear more about Noelle, and he wanted to know why Shaelin looked so sad when she looked at her sister. But he dropped it. No sense in prying into a stranger's private matters.  
  
"I screwed up, like always," he sighed, picking up a third shot and downing it. He was feeling the alcohol, and it felt good to only feel that. Well, that and some bitterness. "I made a bad decision in a match against another tag team. It pretty much ended the Hardy Boyz, put Matt's girlfriend between us."  
  
"I'm sure it wasn't your fault entirely," Shaelin put a hand on his arm. As much to comfort him as to stop him from taking another shot.  
  
"It was-it always is," he saw her going to say something, but he put a finger to her lips. "And don't say that isn't true, or that it's the alcohol talking. It's true."  
  
She closed her mouth, looking into his eyes. They were clouded with his drunken state. But he was determined to say his piece, so she kept quiet.  
  
"I was selfish. I could have gone over the cage-I was right there!" He pounded his hand on the table, causing a few patrons to jump and stare. Shaelin glared at them, and they looked away. "but I wanted the glory of putting D-Von Dudley through the table. So I jumped. And I swantoned right theough the table myself-leaving me and Matt without the tag team championships." He sighed, taking his hat off, running a hand through his hair. "So Matt and I got into a fight, we dragged Lita into the middle of it all, and we decided to have a match, to prove who is the better wrestler."  
  
He paused for so long, just staring at his bottle of corona, that Shaelin wasn't sure if he was going to continue. His hair was indeed blue, shoulder length and shaved underneath, with patterns zig zagging across his head. Then he looked up at her, such sadness in his eyes, she could feel her heart break.  
  
"I won." He said finally.  
  
"Why are you upset?" Shaelin didn't understand. "Isn't winning a good thing?"  
  
"Matt's foot was on the rope, meaning no three count for me." he shook his head, shutting his eyes against the memory. "I let my competitiveness win out, I grabbed his leg before Lita saw it. I got the pin by cheating."  
  
"Can't you do the match over?" Shaelin wasn't sure what any of the wrestling terms meant, but she got the gist of his explanation.  
  
Jeff shook his head. "I wish. Matt took off. He blamed Lita more than anything."  
  
"But she didn't see his leg?"  
  
He shook his head again, opening his eyes and looking her straight in the eyes. "I swear, she didn't. But Matt thinks we plotted against him, to make him lose. Lita loves him more than anything-" Jeff's voice caught as tears threatened again. He couldn't bear the thought of Matt and Lita breaking up. She was like a sister to him, the perfect match for Matt. And he screwed it all up. He took another shot of tequila.  
  
"Maybe you should lay off-" But he cut Shaelin off.  
  
"What are you? My mother?" he snapped, then caught himself as she gave him a stricken look. "I'm sorry-there was no excuse for that. I was rude."  
  
Shaelin did a double take. He was apologizing? That was something new for a man. She had never met a man who did that. "No need to apologize," she told him. "I shouldn't monitor your drinking, you're a grown man." She laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, I hardly know you."  
  
He looked at her somberly, swaying a little from the alcohol in his system. "We should change that," Jeff shook his head, knowing he sounded like an ass. "I'm sorry-that wasn't meant to be a pick up line-"  
  
Shaelin laughed. "I know what you meant. And if you apologize any more, I may die from shock." She laughed. The music switched from crappy dance music to Cold's Just Got Wicked. She stood, offering her hand to Jeff. "Know what will make you feel better? Dancing."  
  
"I don't know if I can stand-" but she already had him on his feet and was dragging him to the nearly empty dance floor. But Shaelin didn't look like she cared. She started dancing, her movements similar to Lita's on the dance floor, only more graceful. Jeff tried to keep up with her, but knew the liquor he downed made his movements slow and clumsy.  
  
Shaelin was taking his dancing in stride. He looked like an uncoordinated bull, but he was at least smiling. So they danced through Wicked, which turned into Limp Bizkit's My Generation, and through the night until the lights came up over the bar.  
  
Jeff was sweaty, and felt like he would vomit if he moved anymore. He couldn't even remember how many drinks he'd downed, or what the name of the bar was, or even where he was staying at this city-what city was that? They travelled to so many, it was easy to lose track.  
  
"We should get you home-or to your hotel room, anyways," Shaelin told him, helping Jeff out the door of the bar and onto the street. "Which hotel are you at?"  
  
"I don't remember." He mumbled drunkenly. He looked ready to either throw up, or pass out.  
  
And throw up it was, narrowly missing Shaelin's boots.  
  
"Okay then, so what should I do with you?" she murmured to herself, practically dragging Jeff down the street. "I guess I could take you to Noelle's apartment. We'll get you to your hotel in the morning."  
  
But Jeff wasn't listening. He was almost passed out. Shaelin stopped and hailed a cab, dumping Jeff in the back seat for the ride. Amazingly, he didn't puke.  
  
She hauled him up to Noelle's apartment, glad she had a key and glad Noelle was out for the night, so the spare bedroom was free. She'd put Jeff there for the night until he was sober in the morning.  
  
Shaelin dumped him unceremoniously onto the bed. She put her hands on her hips, looking him over, wondering if she should undress him or not. If not, he'd likely throw up all over his clothing. Which would be amusing and well deserved, but she didn't want to sit beside in the kitchen tomorrow while he wore pukey clothing.  
  
So she pulled his socks off, unbuckled his pants and pulled those down as well. Luckily, he wore those boxer briefs, and not tighty whiteys. Then she lifted Jeff into a sitting position and pulled his shirt over his head, and pulled the sleeves down his arms. She set him back onto the bed, wearing only his underwear and socks, a little more gently than the first time. Shaelin grabbed a basin from under the kitchen sink and put it beside the bed, in case he needed to throw up through the night, and covered him with the sheets and comforter. Turning off the light, Shaelin went to bed in her sister's room.  
  
Jeff awoke the next morning in a definitely feminine room. The walls were medium blue, stenciled with stars all over them in white and dark blue. The bed spread was blue with a yellow sun, moon and stars motif. Scanning the room, his eyes settled on a chair where his clothing lay neatly folded. He could smell bacon cooking. Then he felt the distinct urge to vomit. Luckily, someone was kind enough to leave a basin beside the bed.  
  
He stood on wobbly legs, feeling the familiar nausea and headache that accompanied a hangover. He groaned, putting a hand to his forehead, pulling his pants from the pile on the chair, he slipped them on, not bothering to try to manipulate his shirt and sleeves.  
  
Jeff found Shaelin in the kitchen, the radio was on a heavy rock station, and she was bouncing to the music as she cooked breakfast. She looked really cute, in a little girl way, with bangs over her forehead, a braid on either side of her head, and a baby tee with boxer shorts, and blue fluffy slippers.  
  
"Hi!" she grinned, holding up the pan of bacon. "Breakfast?"  
  
Jeff groaned, finding a seat at the dinette. "I don't know if I can eat."  
  
Shaelin grinned, at least getting the satisfaction of seeing him hungover made up for carrying him home. Well, kind of. "I always find that a greasy breakfast gets rid of hangovers-besides, I'm making omelets, and I make the best omelets."  
  
Jeff groaned again, clutching his forehead. She was way too chipper in the morning. Then his eyes widened and a sinking feeling invaded his stomach. And it wasn't linked to the hangover. At least directly.  
  
He looked at Shaelin in horror. "I didn't-" he cut off, his face bright red. "We didn't-" He resembled a fish, the way his mouth kept opening and closing. "You didn't-"  
  
She laughed. "No, I didn't, you didn't, and we didn't," she told him, and she noticed the relief flood across his face, then confusion. "You got really drunk and couldn't remember which hotel you were at. So, it was either leave you on the street, in the cab, or bring you here." She put a plate in front of him, along with a glass of orange juice. "You're lucky I was in a generous mood last night."  
  
Despite himself, Jeff couldn't help but roll his eyes. Then he gave a sheepish grin. "Was I that drunk?"  
  
"Mm hm," Shaelin poured him a cup of coffee, strong and black. Then set her own down in front of her chair. Then she returned to the stove and returned with the bacon, piling Jeff's plate with the greasy pig strips, and placing two on her own plate. Then she exchanged that pan for a pan holding the omelets. "These have cheese, onion, green pepper, red pepper, salsa and jalapenos in them. They're good for hangovers." Again, she piled Jeff's plate high with the omelets, and put a small piece on her plate.  
  
"Don't you eat?" he asked, stuffing three pieces of bacon in his mouth.  
  
"Don't you?" she asked, laughing.  
  
"Did I do anything really embarassing last night?" Jeff asked, tackling the mountain of omelet on his plate.  
  
"You danced really funny," Shaelin told him. "Sort of like Kermit the Frog mixed with a Fraggle."  
  
Jeff moaned, glad he didn't remember that. "Did I tell you my life story?"  
  
"Some of it," Shaelin gave him a look that made him think he sprouted a second head. "Why?"  
  
"I've been told I do that when I'm drunk," he said. "God, I shouldn't have gone to a bar last night. Really stupid thing for me to do when I'm down."  
  
She shrugged. She waa only picking at her bacon, tearing it into little shreds, and then eating it.  
  
"Not hungry?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Diet," She smiled at him, a slightly crooked, but completely charming, smile. "The theory is that the longer it takes to eat, the less you eventually do eat."  
  
"Bull shit," he put his fork down. "You don't need to diet."  
  
Shaelin cleared her throat. "I'm five feet six and one hundred and forty pounds." She chuckled. "Compared to my sister, I'm a cow."  
  
"Don't compare yourself to your sister," he told her.  
  
Shaelin felt the remark sting. If she didn't compare herself to Noelle, how could she ever get her parents to love her as much as they love their sweet Noelle?  
  
"You should talk," she threw back at him, instantly regretting it when she saw the hurt in his eyes. "I'm sorry-that wasn't fair-"  
  
"But it was right," Jeff told her. "I always compare myself to Matt, try to be as good as Matt at everything. Why should I give that advice to anyone?"  
  
"Because you know from experience," Shaelin looked into his hazel eyes, seeing them soften. "And you can learn from it. We both can."  
  
Jeff laughed. The Voice of Reason had just walked into his life. She also made great omelets.  
  
Shaelin stood, putting her plate and the frying pans into the dishwasher. "How's your omelet?"  
  
"Fabulous," Jeff was stuffing his face again. These were the fluffiest, most flavourful omelets he'd ever tasted. "So why do you need to lose weight?"  
  
She growled, ruffling his blue hair on the way past. "See this ass?" she turned so it was facing him, pointing at it. "It has it's own zip code." Then she wiggled it. "I'm going to shower, then I'll run you a bath. Then, if you tell me which hotel you're in, I can take you back there."  
  
Jeff felt better after eating and having a bath. At least his stomach was full and he was clean. But his clothes smelled of the bar, cigarette smoke, sweat and spilled Corona. He pulled his hair into a poneytail and slid his shoes on, meeting Shaelin in the living room.  
  
"So this is your place?" he asked, looking around. It was a little flamboyant for what he figured Shaelin to be.  
  
"It's Noelle's apartment," she told him. "I live in Toronto. I'm just visiting. Kind of--if she was ever around, that would work better."  
  
"Listen, we have a couple weeks 'off'," Jeff helped her into her coat. "But we're all staying in town for the time being, until the next show taping. We're doing promos and stuff, but when I'm done those, we can hang." He paused. "If you want." He added quickly.  
  
"That would be nice," Shaelin smiled, ushering him out the door. "Now what hotel were you staying in?" 


	2. New Enemies

Part 2: New Enemies  
  
--------------------------  
  
Jeff walked into the hotel, tucking Shaelin's cell phone number into the pocket of his jeans. He hurried up the stairs, hoping none of the other wrestlers caught him coming into his room so late, and in the same clothing he wore the night before. He didn't want them to think that he and Shaelin had spent the night together.  
  
He tried to unlock the door of his room, but found it was already unlocked. Jeff swung the door open, looking cautiously into the hotel room. The bed was made, his clothing was put away. 'Maid service must've been in and forgot to lock the door.' he thought, breathing a sigh of relief and walking into the room. Then he noticed his brother sitting on the chair in the corner of the room not visible from the door.  
  
"Hello Jeff," his hair was disheveled, his clothing rumpled. His eyes were glassy and red, as if he were drunk or stoned, or both.  
  
"Matt," Jeff took a cautious step back, positioning himself in a defensive posture, in case his brother decided he wanted to fight.  
  
"Out all night?" Matt asked, his words slurred.  
  
"Um, kind of-" he broke off. "What do you want, Matt?"  
  
"I thought I may as well catch you in the act," he stood up, wobbling on his feet. "Catch you spending the night with Lita."  
  
"I wasn't with Lita!" Jeff protested, eyes widening at the mere thought. "She's like a sister to me, Matt, you know I would never-"  
  
"Like you would never cheat me, Jeff?" the words stung. Matt's brown eyes were teared up. He sniffed, roughly wiping at the betrayers of his emotions.  
  
"Matt-I'm sorry, how many times do I have to say it?" he looked at his brother plaintively. "And Lita had nothing to do with it-she was calling it like she saw it."  
  
"Then she should have seen her boyfriend put his foot on the rope," Matt sneered, "She should have seen her 'brother' pull it off for the three count."  
  
"Matt-"  
  
"I'm out of here." He stalked towards the door, clumsily pushing Jeff aside.  
  
Jeff sighed, sitting on the bed, head in his hands. 'What have I done?' he thought. 'Not only does my brother hate me, he hates the only woman he's ever loved.'  
  
A knock sounded at his door. "Come in," he said in a sad voice. Lita's head popped inside the door.  
  
"You busy, Jeff?" she asked.  
  
"Not really," he told her. "Come in."  
  
"I looked for you last night, but no one had seen you," Lita sat on the bed beside him.  
  
"I went out after the match," he looked at her, hazel eyes begging forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Lita. I didn't mean for Matt to blame you."  
  
Lita's eyes were like liquid pools. Her eyes were red from crying, her nose was puffy. She was a mess. "I know, Jeffy," she slid an arm through his. "Matt's being an idiot, and pig headed-but that's our Matt."  
  
"But this time it's worse," he said, pulling her into a fierce hug. "This time, he isn't just mad at me, he's mad at you too."  
  
"I know," Lita buried her face in his shoulder, her chest heaving in heavy sobs. She felt like her heart was breaking. Matt had been her perfect match, he was everything he wanted in a man. Brave, strong, gorgeous, loving, smart and kind. And he was an awesome wrestler. How could she lose a man she loved so much?  
  
"I knew it!" the voice came from the doorway, slightly slurred. Lita and Jeff both looked up, seeing Jeff standing there. His face was red with rage, ihs stance still wobbly. "I knew you two had something going on."  
  
"Matt," Lita stood quickly, going towards him, but he stepped back. "Jeff was just comforting me-"  
  
"Yeah, I saw that," Matt's voice was sarcastic. "Why don't you go back to whatever you were doing? I'm gone." He slammed the door in Lita's face, and they heard his quickly retreating streps down the hall. Lita burst into a fresh round of tears, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her, her steps going across the hall to her own room, her door slamming.  
  
Jeff moaned, falling backwards onto the bed. Another knock on the door. "Leave me alone," he threw a pillow over his face, muffling the words. The door opened anyways.  
  
"Jeff?"  
  
The voice was familiar, female.  
  
"Shaelin? What are you doing here?"  
  
She held up the purple baseball cap. "You left this in my car," she explained, a small smile on her lips. Then she examined his face, his eyes were sad again, his mouth a tight line. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Matt thinks I slept with Lita last night," he sat up. "He accused me of it, and I denied it. Then he left. And Lita came in, and I was comforting her about Matt, and he came back and saw us hugging."  
  
"Hugging?" he couldn't read her expression. Perhaps it was doubtful?  
  
"Only hugging," he protested. "Lita is like my sister-if it was anything else, that would be gross!"  
  
Shaelin laughed, sitting on the bed beside him, putting the hat on his head backwards. "Well, if he doesn't believe you, he doesn't believe you." she said in a somber tone. "If he know you and Lita are like siblings, then he should know you two wouldn't have sex. Besides, you were with me last night, and I'll vouch for that."  
  
Jeff smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks, but I don't think he'll listen to reason."  
  
Just then, another know sounded. Without waiting for an invitation, the door opened and a young man stepped inside.  
  
Shaelin's jaw almost dropped open. He was gorgeous. He had college boy good looks, with black hair falling over his forehead, pale skin, and big brown eyes. He was as tall as Jeff, but bulkier. And the dark blue v-neck sweater and khaki chinos fit his body well.  
  
"C'mon Jeff," he said, looking between him and Shaelin. "You have autographs in about twenty minutes at the arena." His eyes settled on Shaelin, looking her over. She felt herselt start to blush at his appreciative gaze. "Remember what we've said about bringing guests back to the hotel?"  
  
"I'm not a guest-" Shaelin started.  
  
"We didn't-" Jeff began.  
  
"We're just friends," Shaelin finished. "We met, last night."  
  
"I was drunk, and she helped me out," Jeff finished.  
  
The young man was nodding at their words the whole while. Then he looked at Shaelin, offering his hand. "I'm Shane McMahon," he told her.  
  
She stood, taking his hand. Hers was dwarfed by comparison. "Shaelin Quartz."  
  
"Interesting name," he commented, looking into her eyes. Shaelin felt a shiver move through her from head to toe.  
  
"My mother was a hippie, she had her name legally changed to Quartz in the 60s," she explained. He let go of her hand, and she missed the warmth of it.  
  
"I'll see you around," his voice was smooth, and he looked at Jeff. "I want to see you in five minutes in the lobby."  
  
"Yes, sir! Mr. McMahon!" he saluted mockingly, using 'Mr. McMahon' as a way to get under Shane's skin. He knew Shane hated that.  
  
Shane rolled his eyes, and shut the door behind him with a distinct click.  
  
"So, he's like a manager or something?" Shaelin hoped her voice was nonchalant, but Jeff wasn't stupid.  
  
"Or something," he told her. A grin spread across his face as he pulled clothing from the closet. "You have a crush on Shane O'Mac!"  
  
"I do not!" Shaelin protested, trying to keep from blushing. Then a quizzical look came across her face. "Shane O'Mac?"  
  
"One of Shane's nick names around here," Jeff pulled his shirt off over his head, then slipped on the long sleeved, fitted purple lycra shirt. Emblazoned on it was a bright green 'H', the same as the one on the necklace he wore. "Along with 'Boy Wonder', and 'The Heir Apparent'," He chuckled, slipping off his shoes and changing from the carpenter jeans into a baggy pair accented with green and purple to match the shirt. He pulled his hat on, tugging his blue poneytail through the pre-made hole in the top. "Generally, I just call him 'Preppy' or 'Whipping Boy'."  
  
Shaelin gave him a dirty look. "Okay, Rainbow Brite," she grinned. "One should not talk about how another dresses until they don't wear green and purple together."  
  
Jeff's face fell. "Hey," he protested. "I was just kidding around-kinda."  
  
She laughed. "So what's he heir apparent to?"  
  
"The WWF," he escorted her out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. "His father owns it-well, part of it, anyways."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, really," He grinned at her as they entered the elevator. "And why such the interest in Shane if you don't have a crush on him?"  
  
Shaelin rolled her eyes. "He's cute," she conceded. "But I don't get crushes."  
  
"Shaelin and Shane sitting in a tree!" he sing-songed to her. "K-I-S-S-I-N- G!"  
  
"Shut up, Jeff!" she punched him in the arm, face flaming in embarassment.  
  
"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Shaelin with a baby carriage!" He grunted in pain as her boot came down on his sneaker clad foot.  
  
"I said-" she punctuated her words with a punch in Jeff's gut each time. "Shut up!"  
  
"Oh, that hurt-" he grabbed his ribs. They were still tender from his match with Matt yesterday.  
  
"Sorry, I forgot," Shaelin's face fell, and she rubbed his belly with her hand. "Are you okay?"  
  
Jeff lifted his shirt, examining his ribs for bruising. Shaelin's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the soft, pale skin, covering an expanse of muscles in his abdomen.  
  
'I could kiss them better,' Shaelin thought, then mentally kicked herself. 'You are such a slut!' She chided herself. 'Crushing on Shane, now thinking about coming onto Jeff? What's wrong with you? You generally barely even tolerate men.'  
  
"Earth to Shaelin?" Jeff was peering at her from under the rim of his purple cap. "When the elevator stops, you're supposed to get out."  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him, following him into the lobby. Shane was waiting there for Jeff, and was accompanied by a large man in a mask, a bald man with piercing blue eyes, and a tall man in biker regalia.  
  
"I'll see ya then," she told him, squeezing his arm. He kissed her cheek in response.  
  
"I'll call you when I'm done-we'll go for dinner or something," he ruffled her hair, which she wore down today, and joined Shane and the other wrestlers.  
  
Shaelin walked past the men, knowing they were watching her. But she kept her gaze straight ahead, and walked out the front door of the Hilton. 


	3. New Loves

Part 3: New Loves  
  
------------------------  
  
Shane watched as the brunette left the hotel. She and Hardy looked pretty chummy, with the kiss on the cheek and all.  
  
She was beautiful, in a way not seen in his line of work. She was natural. Her hair was honey brown, long, with bangs falling over her forehead. She had a pretty, elfin looking face, with wide dark blue eyes, a turned up nose, and full pink lips. Her glasses gave her a bookish look, but they made her more appealing, instead of less. Then there was the way she dressed, classic, with a bit of edge to it. A dark blue fitted sweater, with a mid thigh length black skirt. She had on mid-calf high boots with it, showing off sturdy legs. She was shaped like a goddess, with a full bust and wide curvaceous hips. She could look good wearing a paper sack.  
  
"Hey, Boy Wonder," Austin was glaring at him with cool blue eyes. "If ya done staring at the lady, could we get going?"  
  
Shane shook himself, not realizing he'd been that obvious. He struggled to keep a cool outside demeaner. "Let's go," he checked his watch. "We have twenty minutes to get to the arena."  
  
it was a long day of autograph signing and getting pictures taken with fans. Then Jeff recognized a bored looking red head standing in line with a guy who looked like a football player.  
  
He waved her over, and she went to him, looking confused. "You're Noelle, right?" he asked.  
  
"Do I know you?" her reply was cool. She was gorgeous, everything about her was opposite to Shaelin. Long orange-red hair, cat shaped green eyes, aristrocratic features, pale skin dotted with orange freckles. She was tall and slim, wearing a dark green long sleeved sweater, and a long black skirt with sling back heels.  
  
"I met your sister at the bar last night," he told her. "Shaelin?"  
  
Her eyes brightened at the mention of her sister's name. "So she finally decided to give men a chance?"  
  
"Um, not me," he laughed. "We're just friends. I just wanted to meet the famous Noelle in person. Besides, you looked pretty bored in that line."  
  
"Yeah," she rolled her eyes, an action that reminded him of Shaelin. "I went home with Brent last night-and he insisted on coming here before he drove me home."  
  
"So you're not a wrestling fan?" he asked.  
  
"Not really-I mean, I've watched it on occasion, but I'm not the hugest fan," recognition dawned in her green eyes. "You're Jeff Hardy, aren't you?"  
  
He grinned. "I am," he offered his hand. "Nice to meet you." He studied her face. "Do you want to go out for dinner tonight? I invited Shaelin, but I wanted to try to set her up with a friend-we could make it a double date."  
  
"Set Shaelin up with a guy?" Noelle laughed musically. "I'd go just to see that!" Then she regarded Jeff with an obviously heated look. "I'd love to."  
  
"Good, we'll pick you and Shaelin up at six o'clock," he kissed Noelle's hand, knowing she was one who had to be charmed.  
  
She giggled, walking back over to the guy she had been in line with. Jeff watched as she pointed at him, giggled, and walked down towards the street and hailed a cab.  
  
He couldn't believe how different she was from Shaelin. Not only in looks, but in personality as well.  
  
He ran into Shane on the way back to the hotel at four o'clock that afternoon.  
  
"Hey, Shane O'Mac!" Shane turned to see Jeff jogging towards him. He shook his head at the purple and green outfit he had on. Freak, he thought fondly of his friend. Actually, Jeff was one of the few "real" friends he had in the WWF.  
  
"What do you want Rainbow Brite?" he asked in a bored tone.  
  
Jeff did a double take. Shaelin had just called him that this morning. Maybe this was a match made in heaven, after all.  
  
"Well, I have a proposition for you." He began slowly.  
  
"You know I don't swing that way, Jeff," Shane replied, laughing.  
  
Jeff rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. "Not that kind of proposition," he said in an exasperated voice. "A double date-Me and Noelle and you and Noelle's sister."  
  
"You know I don't like blind dates," Shane told him, leading the way into the hotel. "Besides, who's Noelle? What happened with Shaelin?"  
  
"As we told you, Shae and I are only friends," Jeff and Shane entered the elevator, hitting the button for the floor where all the WWF wrestlers were staying. "And, I think you'll like the girl you're being set up with. She's smart-"  
  
"Okay, so what's wrong with her?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong with her."  
  
"You told me she's smart, that means she's fat, ugly or has a really annoying laugh," Shane narrowed his eyes at his friend. "You've done that too many times for me to not figure it out by now."  
  
"If you'd let me finish, I was going to say, she's smart, sexy, artistic and witty," Jeff paused. "And she has a great laugh."  
  
"So why aren't you dating her?"  
  
He shrugged. "I like Noelle better."  
  
"So Noelle is easy?" Shane asked mischeviously.  
  
"Pretty much," Jeff shrugged, exiting the elevator. "I don't want a relationship right now, and you don't want just one night stands. Perfect set up."  
  
Shane sighed. "Fine. What time are we picking them up?"  
  
"Six o'clock," Jeff checked his watch. It was already four thirty. "I'll find a restaurant, you pick a movie."  
  
"Sounds good. I'll meet you in the lobby at five." 


	4. First Dates

Part 4: First Dates  
  
-----------------------  
  
Shane was wearing his "lucky" sweater. The dark brown one with the v-neck and the black stripe across the chest. He had on black chinos and black loafers. He was nervous. He was always nervous before blind dates. What if she only liked him because of the money? Because of the fame? What if she was going out with him for a job?  
  
He shook his head, getting out of the elevator and striding towards the lobby's couch. He knew Rainbow Brite would be late, he always was, which was why Shane had told him to meet him there at five o'clock.  
  
At five twenty Jeff wandered into the hallway. His once blue hair was now bright blonde, and new patterns were cut into the shaved part of his head. His face was clean shaven, and he had on a long sleeved black shirt, his Hardy Boyz necklace, and a pair of dark blue cargo pants. Thank god he wasn't wearing purple and green.  
  
"Ready?" Shane asked, standing.  
  
"Shane O'Mac, you look great," Jeff laughed, slapping the Heir Apparent on the back as they walked towards Shane's BMW.  
  
Shane slipped the WWF soundtrack into his CD player, letting the strains of the beginning of "My Sacrifice" wash over him. The music used in the new soundtrack was more to his liking than the older stuff. He enjoyed hip hop as well, but not for getting ready for a date. He needed something to pump him up, and Creed seemed to do that very well.  
  
Jeff got out of the car at the apartment building to buzz the girls. Shane tried to look nonchalant as he watched to see who came down. His jaw dropped when Shaelin walked over and kissed Jeff on the cheek. Jeff was grinning like a Cheshire cat as he pointed to the car.  
  
Shaelin punched him hard in the stomach, and Shane watched as she yelled at Jeff, her face turning scarlet. The red head, whom he assumed was Noelle, was giggling at the spectacle. She put a hand on her sister's arm, and she and Jeff steered Shaelin to the car.  
  
Jeff opened the front passenger door for Shaelin, ushering her into the car. He and Noelle climbed into the back seat.  
  
Shane's left arm went over the back of his seat and clipped Jeff in the forehead.  
  
"Hey, BW, what was that for?"  
  
"You know what that was for," Shane glared at him in the rearview mirror.  
  
"Ssh, I like this song," Shaelin skipped the track back to start over again, then turned the volume up to twenty, and adjusted the bass so the seats of the car vibrated. She rested her head on the back of the seat, signing along quietly.  
  
Shane snuck a look out of the corner of his eye at the brunette seated beside him. Gutsy, even if it was just telling them to be quiet, and adjusting his CD player and radio to her liking. Most girls just sit quietly in the passenger seat, asking polite questions. Shaelin wanted to enjoy Creed.  
  
He smiled, pulling his gaze back to the road leading to the Italian restaurant that Jeff had picked out.  
  
Shane had to give Jeff credit, the restaurant was fabulous. It was elegant, without seeming snobbish. Candles were resting in the mouths of empty wine bottles at each table, and antique chairs were set up to give it an "old world" feel.  
  
Shane took Shaelin's jacket, hanging it in the closet at the front of the restaurant. She looked stunning, a knee length black dress, with tasteful diamond stud earrings and a matching diamond pendant around her neck, nestled in her cleavage. But, on her feet, were her boots. He smiled. "You look beautiful," he told her.  
  
"Thank you," Shaelin smiled shyly. "Noelle dressed me. But I refused to give up my boots. I'd likely kill myself in her heels."  
  
She nodded to her sister. Noelle was wearing a dark red halter dress that clung down to her ankles, with matching heels. A ruby hung around her throat, and matching tear drop earring dangled from her ears.  
  
"You look better, anyway," Shane whispered, truly meaning it. She didn't have to wear revealing or glamorous clothing to look glamorous. that was what she was, without even trying.  
  
"Um, thanks," Shaelin gave him a strange look, following the maitre d' to the table. She sat before Shane had a chance to pull her chair out for her.  
  
Noelle waited for Jeff to pull her chair out before sitting down. She adeptly ordered two bottles of wine in fluent Italian, one red and one white. She smiled at Shaelin.  
  
"I got the red wine you like," she told her. "Oakstone Cellars."  
  
"Oakstone Cellars? Isn't that out of the Niagara region?" Shane looked at his date, trying to start up a conversation.  
  
"Yes, it is," 


End file.
